Easy On the Eyes
by vanillafluffy
Summary: Jensen is easy on the eyes, but he's lost without his glasses. Luckily Jared's there to see him through it! Not slash. SPN, Supernatural.


**Easy On the Eyes**

Everyone misplaces things once in a while, and usually it's just an inconvenience. But when "everyone" is Jensen Ackles and the thing in question is his glasses, it makes for some crazy times, because he's stubborn about coping with his near-sightedness and really doesn't want to replace them.

First, Jensen tries to be nonchalant about it and get by with his contacts. Which would work if wearing them constantly didn't irritate his eyes so much that Make-Up has to spend extra time covering the pink---and the extra concealer bothers him so much that he tries to get by without the contacts. This is not a good idea, in light of the fact that he's driving the Impala in the next scene they're shooting. Things get a little fuzzy just past the end of the glossy black hood, and he nearly takes out a styrofoam planter and two extras.

He and Jared go home that night and tear the house apart looking for the missing specs. No luck, but he finds an old pair in a box of odds and ends he hadn't unpacked. They'll do, right?

Sort of. Jensen gets a pounding headache if he wears them for more than an hour, so he leaves them off when he's at home. No glasses, no contacts, just soft focus with a touch of astigmatism. He's been bumping into things, so now Make-Up has bruises to cover up.

"You know, you could get new ones," Jared suggests between takes. Jerry has the set crew rebuilding the motel-room-of-the-week after Jensen stumbled into a lattice room divider and managed to bring down a wall. "It's not like you're a starving actor these days, and at the rate you're going, it might save someone's life."

"Yeah, but---"

"But what?"

"They were more than two years old," Jensen confesses in a low voice as if it's a grave detail.

"So?"

"So, they're not gonna renew my old prescription. They're gonna make me take an eye exam."

Jared rolls his eyes. "Okay, and? It's not life or death, they look at your eyes and give you new glasses."

Jensen sighs. Jared has 20/20 vision, he's probably never had an eye exam in his life, he's not going to understand. "They don't just look at your eyes, they dilate them. With drops. And for the next six hours or so, any light hurts---forget trying to drive. Hell, the last time I had it done, I almost got creamed on the Santa Monica Freeway on the way home. I'd rather have a root canal. Without Novacaine."

"Come on, it can't be that bad. And if your lost glasses were that old, the ones you're wearing must be freakin' ancient. No wonder you're having headaches."

"I've had 'em since _Dark Angel_ was filming," he admits.

"Dude, it's time. Retire them. We'll go to one of those same-day optical places. I'll drive," Jared coaxes. "You can get extra pairs so this doesn't happen again, get some cool frames. Or prescription sunglasses. Dark glasses for the drive home. Say yes!"

"Okay," Jensen mumbles reluctantly.

It's every bit the ordeal he feared. The only positive thing is, with Jared's urging, he's splurged on five new pairs of glasses, including two of sunglasses, so he won't have to do this again for a good long time. He's lucky that his scrip isn't too complicated and they can come back and pick them up in a couple hours, but those two hours are painful as he and Jared wander through the mall.

The halogen display lights in the stores are searing. He tries to focus on the merchandise, but he's never realized how many reflective surfaces there are in J Crew. Mirrors, chrome racks, glass display cases---it's a torture chamber with price tags.

Out in the mall proper, the skylights overhead make walking to the food court as stupid as arc-welding without goggles. The vendors all have neon signs and big lit-up menu displays. The words are blurry; only the corporate logos are familiar.

"Get me a chicken salad, something like that. I'll get us a table," Jensen says. He looks for the closest table he can find to something resembling a dark corner---not very. Why do malls have to be so well-lit, anyway? If they'd dial down the wattage, it would be a lot eco-friendlier...and easier on the eyes.

He manages not to groan when Jared is followed back to their table by a couple of chatty fans. He's a professional, he reminds himself. This comes with the job. He may feel like crawling under the table with a nice, opaque bag over his head, but it's gals like these who support the show, and the show pays him enough to afford five pairs of glasses and an eye exam, so he'll be polite it it kills him.

At the moment, he kinda wishes it would.

Tylenol isn't doing much for his headache, which is bad enough that chewing hurts. When they get home, Jensen has a bag holding five shiny new pairs of glasses, and all he wants to do is crash in a dark room for the next few hours.

Jared is solicitous. He'd better be, since this was all his idea. He brings a chilled wet towel---which feels really good---and cold beer---which helps unknot some of the tension at the back of Jensen's skull. Then he wisely makes himself scarce and keeps the volume down on whatever he's occupying his time with.

Jensen dreams about being on the set. It's a motel-of-the-week set, and Jerry's done a nautical theme. There are rope ladders instead of room dividers, and a six-foot tall lighthouse tower in one corner with a flashing light that disorients him. He gets tangled up in the ropes, and when he finally gets free, he staggers through the back wall, which must be really cheap canvas...he's on another set,_ Dark Angel_ this time, and he and Mike are in Logan's apartment commiserating about being disabled...he's read the script for this ep, he knows his lines---Alec has been blinded, it's going to be an ongoing storyline. He's going to get a gene-splice of bat DNA from the X-7 series. Then Jessica and Jared sweep onto the set with Chinese takeout, and they break for lunch---

The room is still dark, but his headache is gone, and he really does smell something fragrant with ginger and spices. He slouches into the kitchen; only the light over the stove is on, and it doesn't bother him a bit. Beyond that, past the dining room, the lights in the family room are on, and that's okay, too. Yes, there are several tell-tale cartons on the stove, still warm.

Jared hears him rummaging around for a plate and pops into the room. "Feeling better?"

"Way better," Jensen answers around a mouthful of General Tso's chicken. "Starving. Umm, good stuff."

"You must be hungry. You didn't even stop to get your glasses. And it's not like you don't know where there are."

"Not going anywhere, that's where they are." He crunches a piece of water chestnut mixed with pork and 'shrooms and doesn't entirely supress a blissful moan.

"Dude, don't look now, but I've think you've been playing Dean a little too long."

After all the money, not to mention pain he's invested in them, he really ought to get some use out of his new specs. As soon as he's satisfied his stomach, Jensen makes his way to the console in the foyer where the optical bag awaits.

He dumps the contents onto the console. Five hardshell cases...let's see. Nope, sunglasses---thank God he doesn't need those right now! These...how did he let Jared talk him into those tortoiseshell frames? The other sunglasses---cool shape. Bingo! Simple basic wire rims...he settles them onto the bridge of his nose and for the first time in a week, the world is in crisp focus around him.

Excellent.

He accidentally knocks one of the cases down behind the console---great, he can see and he's still a klutz!---and he eases the piece away from the wall to retrive it.

It's enough to make a grown man cry.

There against the baseboard are Jensen's missing glasses.

The End.


End file.
